An angel sent

The cracks in the wall followed around the remaining walls. There was a door, slowly, I walked towards it…and stopped. I gently turned the handle, I walked into the room. I saw the girl, she was lying there. Her name was Sarah. She was dead.

On many occasions I had come across this sort of thing, you know; suicide. Many had just attempted and failed thank God, but that was my job. I was a police officer and God did I know it; I certainly had my work cut out.

I remember one time; I had to deal with a man. He was drunk and he thought I was hitting on him; it was not a pretty sight. So now you ask, what has this got to do with Sarah? Well soon you will find out.

It all happened on the 5th of November, it was wet and cold, the wind was howling and the shadows on the windows looked scarier each time I looked at them. The air didn’t seem right; there was something about it that scared me. I heard a voice but no-one was there. I went all cold and shivery as if someone was “walking over my grave” as they say. It was constant and I tried to shrug it off but it got worse. It got to 9 o’clock and I knew I had only an hour until I finished my shift, I felt relieved and got comfortable. All of a sudden, the voice sounded again, this time louder and closer, I grabbed my mug which was luckily empty and walked towards the cloak room.

The phone rang. I had to answer it. As I slowly crept towards it, I felt my heart beat faster after every step and every beat seemed to get louder. I got to the phone and hastily pulled it off the receiver. I listened.
“Jenny” I heard the friendly voice of my colleague.
“Matt, don’t do that.” I replied.
“Do what? Is something wrong? You sound shakey.”
“Don’t worry, where are you now? I may need help”
With that I told him what had happened and he said he would be with me in 10 minutes.

10 o’clock came and I began to get worried, Matt had not turned up and he didn’t seem to be answering his phone. As I collected my bag and coat, he burst through the door looking as white as a ghost. He stared at me, trying to catch his breath; he muttered a few words that I couldn’t understand and went silent. Once he got his breath back, he talked to me about the drunken man that he had just bumped into.

We had been searching the streets for the man Matt had just seen for over half an hour. The roads were wet and it was hard to turn the corners, with the sirens on, we got through the traffic quickly. Eventually we found him. He was confused. He kept mentioning a girl, a girl called Sarah.
“The girl, she was with me, standing there.”
He seemed scared, afraid to tell. He didn’t look the type to have a family and certainly wasn’t sober enough to be telling the truth. We wanted to make sure he wasn’t playing with us.
“Where did you see her?” Matt asked in an overpowering voice.
“Erm…follow me…please.” he said, shaking. As he directed us, he mentioned a couple of things.
“She spoke to me…she told me…about her family, they ignored her and I think she said she had been beaten up, she wanted to kill herself.” At this point he stopped.

This man wasn’t making anything up. He was part of our investigation as a witness to find a missing child. There was a house, it was old and derelict; no windows or doors. There was a mystery behind it and I had to find out what.

I was researching for days on end, spending most of my time in libraries and the station. I used the internet, books, old tapes of the news, everything I found was useless. The girl was never mentioned. I was going in circles. Every estate agent in town had nothing in their records about the house; they were no help at all.

One website caught my eye though, it was about missing children, Sarah was talked about and her whole life story was upon my computer screen. I soon realized that what I was dealing with never made the news. Sarah’s story was never big enough to make the headlines. At last I had found what I was looking for and together with what Matt had found, my research completed a story, a story of a girl we all once knew.

Sarah was a happy child, no matter what the situation; she would solve it with a smile. Everybody loved her, although she had a lot on her shoulders, she carried on smiling, gave everything her all, until one day. She was 13 years old and she was having problems with her lessons at school. Her mum was ill and her dad had died, with no family around her, she thought of talking to someone she considered as a friend. This apparent friend was not a friend at all and ended up telling the whole school. Within days, everyone knew Sarah’s secrets and she couldn’t take it anymore, she had to get away, she tried to shrug it off and she tried counseling sessions but that didn’t work, so she killed herself.

We hired a clairvoyant to help us out; she spent at least 10 minutes in each room, what was left of them. The last room she came to, she spent 20 minutes in…

The cracks in the wall followed around the remaining walls. There was a small door, slowly, I walked towards it…and stopped. I gently turned the handle.
“Wow its cold in here.” She said quietly; rubbing her arms.
“What do you think, can you find anything?” I murmured.
“Yes, she is sitting over there by the window, in the corner.” She whispered keeping her eyes closed.
I tried to picture her in my head, when I opened my eyes there seemed to be a silver silhouette in the corner.
“She keeps on pointing to the door, I think she wants us to close it…close it…please!” she seemed agitated so I quickly shut the door.
“There you go.”
“Thank you, anyway I think she feels more comfortable now, she wants to talk,” she said sounding relieved.
The clairvoyant spoke to Sarah and got her to go to the other side with her dad. It wasn’t long before the house fell down; Sarah’s soul was all that was keeping it up and without her the old house was history. Soon a block of flats were built there and all the families moved in. occasionally you would hear cries from the walls and people said to have felt strange feelings. The clairvoyant was hired again and told us that there was nothing to worry about; it was just Sarah playing tricks for attention, the attention she never had.

Within days of helping her, Sarah spoke again in the station, she was thanking me and I was proud. Every important date, she would remind me, she was helping me. There were things left in and around my locker, she told me where to be and at what time, she was my guardian angel, looking out for me. It stayed that way until 3 years later. Everything stopped. However, Sarah was always in my dreams, never saying a word but all the while pushing me along and I know that she left me to live my own life, on my own and to cherish every moment.

An angel sent

Jessica Hunt-Harding

Gosport, United Kingdom

  • Artist

Artist's Description

This was written as a short story by me 2007


angel sent

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